Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel) (28 page)

“I’d feel better if you would keep Gracie with you,” Grams said, referring to the small pocket-size pistol she kept beside the bed.

“I appreciate it, Grams, but I won’t need Gracie where I’m going.” Sonya left the cabin and made her way across the creek to the Harte camp.

“Earl, Roland,” she greeted Cranky and Crafty who sat on the broken-down porch. “Is Aidan around?”

“Haven’t seen you around much this summer,” Roland said, smoking a cigarette.

“You need to get you a man, Sonya,” Earl said. “Help with the load you seem determined to carry.”

“You sound like Gramps,” she replied with a smile, though it was hard to pull off.

“How is Nikolai? He didn’t look so good when you brought him home a while ago.” Earl rested an ankle on his knee and reclined farther in his rickety chair. Sonya wondered how it held his weight.

“He’s fine. A little bruised.”

“Good to hear it,” Earl said and then quickly followed up with, “That is, it’s good to hear he’ll be fine. Aidan headed up the bluff. He shouldn’t be more than a few hundred yards.”

“Check out his shoulders, while you’re up there.” Roland stubbed out his cigarette with the heel of his boot. “He could help carry your load.”

“Thanks.” Sonya gratefully turned and headed up the trail. Conversing with Cranky and Crafty was never something she liked to linger over.

She found Aidan reclining on his elbow in the tall grass, his long legs crossed at the ankles. A sketchbook lay opened near his side, a charcoal pencil between his blackened fingers.

“Hey,” she greeted, smiling as she startled him. “Am I interrupting?” She knew how involved he became when writing his graphic novels. “I can come back later.”

Aidan’s eyes cleared of whatever world he’d been visiting. “No, now’s fine.” He sat up, dropped the pencil in the tin box next to him, and reached his arms over his head and stretched. “I could benefit from a break.” He closed the sketchbook, setting it aside, and then regarded her with his intuitive gaze. “What happened?”

She sat next to him in the sweet-smelling grass with the warm sun soothing her temper and a slight sea breeze wafting like a lover’s caress over her skin. She told him what had transpired that morning. At first, she hadn’t wanted to include Aidan, but he’d always regarded Gramps as an adoptive grandfather. It was time to set things right between them.

Besides, she needed a friend.

She also needed muscle who wasn’t overly concerned about the limitations of the law.

Later that evening, Sonya and Aidan parked their 4-wheelers side-by-side in front of the Pitt. The gray salt-weathered board-and-bat siding was years behind a new coat of paint. A neon sign in the window flashed “Sorry We’re Open.”

The front door grated on rusty hinges as Aidan yanked it ajar for her to enter. The acrid smell of smoke drifted over her and helped to dispel the unwashed body odor of the patrons squatting at the bar. Years of fried food and spilled beer gave the floor a dark patina underfoot. On the jukebox, Johnny Cash’s deep baritone sang, “Walk the Line.” Balls clacked over scarred velvet as a few fishermen passed the time shooting pool.

The one redeeming quality the Pitt had was its view of the South Naknek River as it poured into Bristol Bay. Plate glass windows flanked the north side of the building. Sonya picked out the
Double Dippin’
beached below on the muddy sand from the outgoing tide. Peter was keeping watch with Gracie for company.

Aidan wrapped an arm around her, leaned down and whispered in her ear, “There he is.” He turned her with his body so that she saw Kendrick sitting at the end of the bar. “You sure you want to do this?”

She took off her sunglasses, getting a better look at Kendrick sitting smug at the bar, and anchored them in the collar of her shirt. “I’m dying to do this.” This moment had been building for fourteen years.

“The brutes next to him, his crewmen?”

She nodded.

He gave a big sigh. “We could’ve used Cranky and Crafty as back up.”

“I’m counting on those wicked martial art skills of yours to tip the scales.” She shrugged. “Who knows, this might end peacefully.”

“Uh-huh, and I’ve got a deed to a goldmine if your interested.” Aidan rolled his shoulders. “Remember what I showed you?”

“Yep, let’s do this.” With all the bravado she could muster, Sonya strutted over to the end of the bar, Aidan flanking her side. “Kendrick, I’d like a word.”

“Well, if it isn’t the captain of the
Double D,
and who’s this?” Kendrick swiveled on his barstool, and raised coarse brows at Aidan. “Your sidekick?” He threw his head back and laughed at his own joke. While his crewmen belatedly joined in, one stocky with a skull tattooed on his bald head, the other looked like a walking Slim-Jim. Kendrick’s laugh boomed and echoed in the large room, silencing the patrons as everyone turned their direction. A pool ball, still en route, cracked like a gunshot as it sunk a ball into the corner pocket.

Sonya’s legs trembled and she locked her knees. She replayed the image of the reel ramming into Gramps, followed by the haunting memory of fire, and blood, and deadly water. Anger rushed through her veins like a glacial river in summer. It fortified her, made her relish crushing this pissant bully of a man. The feeling intoxicated, seduced her into believing she could take the monster.

“Kendrick, it’s time you answered for your sins against me and mine.”

“You’ve had quite the summer, little girl,” he commented. “Don’t mistake yourself into thinking you’re a match for me.”

“Oh, I’m no match for bottom feeders.” She enjoyed his halibut mouth opening and closing in an attempt for a quick comeback. Apparently, it had been a while since someone had the nerve to offend him.

Red color infused his face, making him look like a candidate for a heart attack. “You have any idea who you’re insulting?”

“Oh, am I insulting? Excuse, me. I thought you were comfortable in your skin. Liked to brag and throw your considerable weight around.” She poked him in the belly. “Might want to lay off the fried food. Bragging can only take you so far, and table muscle gets in the way.”

“You bitch.”

“Now, who’s being insulting?” She glanced at Aidan, his lips tilting at the corners. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”

“Well, Sonya, as I’ve used the term on occasion myself, I can’t rightly tell him not to.”

“I see your point.” She turned back to Kendrick.

“What game you two playing at?” he asked, his mean eyes squinting.

“Game?” She narrowed her stare and gave Kendrick a glare that stabbed. “I don’t play games and I refuse to be toyed by you any longer.” She poked him again. Hard. “Lay off me, my family, and my fishing operation. Or you will be floating belly up.”

“I haven’t messed with you, yet. And I don’t take threats from anyone, least of all a little girl and her puppy of a boyfriend.”

“Can I hit him now, Sonya?” Aidan asked.

“No, that’s what he wants you to do.” She had to get Kendrick to throw the first punch. Insults, pushing, and poking hadn’t done it. Maybe this would? “Haven’t messed with me, huh? Like you didn’t sell my dad a compromised boat?”

“She was sound until he got his hands on her. Your dad always did have a problem with his women.”

Aidan grabbed her arm, before she could swing, anchoring her clenched fist to her side. Kendrick baited like a pro. She’d be swinging her fistful of rolled quarters first if she wasn’t careful.

“My dad did enjoy a woman with passion rather than the dead fish, which I’ve heard is more to your liking.”

That did it.

She saw him move and did what Aidan had taught her. Just as Kendrick’s sledgehammer fist flew at her face, she jerked her head back and to the side, taking the power out of the punch. His meaty knuckles grazed her cheek, but even that little force had stars twinkling behind her eyes.

Kendrick was still moving through his swing, when she sucker-punched him in the soft underbelly of his considerable gut, stealing his wind.

Both crewmen went for Aidan. He was art in motion, a roundhouse kick here, a block there. Though a lucky punch did get him on the chin, and knocked him back into Judd—who’d shown up from somewhere—dropping them both to the floor in a tangled heap of arms and legs.

Sonya jumped back as Kendrick roared. His breath returned. He was like a bear with a wounded paw and intent on assuaging his rage with her demise. He came at her like a brick wall. She ducked and side-stepped, and then jabbed her boot into the side of his knee. He howled and went down like a bag of concrete.

Cool
.

The few lessons Aidan had schooled her in that afternoon had paid off. A couple of claps sounded throughout the bar, followed by, “You show him, Sonya.”

“Break it up!” Garrett stepped between Sonya and Kendrick.

Somehow, she’d known the fish cop would show as soon as she’d seen Judd.

“Don’t even try it,” Garrett growled at Kendrick as he came up off the floor with a broken beer bottle raised in his hand.

Kendrick backed down, spitting out, “Motherfucker,” under his breath.

Sonya couldn’t help but smile though her cheek throbbed like a son of a bitch. Baiting Kendrick had been a hell of a lot of fun. Scary as all get out, but exhilarating at the same time. Like taking on Jason in
Friday the 13
^th
.
She’d faced him, punched him, and taken him down.

Who was the coward now, baby?

“What the hell is going on here?” Garrett demanded, staring right at her, his ice-blue eyes freezing the edges off her fun.

“Just having conversation,” she replied.

His jaw tightened.

Guess he wasn’t receptive to her sarcasm as the entertained crowd. She glanced at Aidan. He was much more in tune to her mood. He had the tattooed crewman in a head lock, while the skinny one lay unconscious on the floor at his feet.

Judd dusted himself off as Davida helped him regain his footing. Aidan’s lips smiled at Sonya, and she couldn’t help but curve hers in return. Garrett took the whole thing in, and his icy look frosted over.

“I want to press charges,” Kendrick boomed.

“What for?” Sonya asked. “Kicking your butt?” The crowd chuckled with her.

“She came in here and started a fight,” Kendrick returned. A few agreements came from the spectators.

“Is that true, Sonya?” Garrett asked.

She smiled, enjoying every minute of this evening. “He threw the first punch.” She motioned to the nodding crowd. “I have witnesses.”

“Did you throw the first punch?” Garrett asked Kendrick.

Kendrick tightened his lips and, if possible, turned a deeper shade of purple.

“Judd, take statements.” He pointed to Aidan. “Start with him. Back up is on their way.” Garrett grabbed Sonya by the arm. “
You
are coming with me.”

“Hey,” she sputtered. “I want to press charges.” She pointed to her swelling cheek. “He did hit me first.”

Garrett took a step and stumbled. He caught himself, and then reached down and picked up a roll of quarters Sonya dropped during the tussle. His incredulous look met hers. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut and come with me.”

Looked as though the fun was over.

She glanced back as Garrett pulled her out of the Pitt, her gaze finding Aidan. She mouthed the words “thank you.” He grinned and winked at her. Then she caught the murderous look Kendrick sent her.

Chills erupted on her skin. Had she just made matters worse?

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
F
OUR

“Pick the place,” Garrett growled once they were outside the Pitt. He still hadn’t let go of her arm.

“What?”

“You and me. We are going to talk. Your choices are the
Calypso
, the cannery, or the
Double Dippin’.
Since you’re so concerned over what everyone else thinks, pick the place, or I will.” His expression was firm and left no room open for discussion. “If I choose, I guarantee you won’t like where I take you.”